


Amanti Eroi

by lunasenzanotte



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Homophobia, Italian National Team, Italy, Multi, Pretending to Be Gay, Rare Pairings, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunasenzanotte/pseuds/lunasenzanotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where homosexuality is the only acceptable orientation, Riccardo is unlucky to 1. be heterosexual, 2. have extremely nosy co-workers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amanti Eroi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeapAngstily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/gifts).



> Okay, I'm like a year late with this, but better late then never. LeapAngstily prompted me to write Memo/Monto in a fake relationship, and I just couldn't get to write it although I had the idea in my head since eternity. I hope she forgives me.
> 
> P.S. I'm sorry for Matri, but I had to :D

 “They’ll know.”

Riccardo scans the dining room from the safe distance of the reception hall. It’s full of tuxedos and shining gowns – a positively terrifying view.

“They won’t if you keep your eyes on me,” Memo says to Riccardo’s reflexion, checking carefully in the mirror that there is not a single hair out of place. Cutting his curls has made his looks socially more acceptable, but it’s made it paradoxically more difficult to keep his hair under control. He’s never been a huge fan of pomade. “Besides, they’re not interested in me. They’re interested in your shares in the company.”

“Oh, trust me, some will be very interested in you,” Riccardo sighs. 

Memo finally accepts that his hair will be forever  _in_ control, not under it. “Well, they’d be even more interested in why you came alone,” he grins. “This way they’ll at least not pity you.”

“You pitying me is enough.”

Memo laughs shortly, wrapping his arm around Riccardo’s waist and pulling him closer. “Well, I gave up on trying to understand you a long time ago, so pity was the only option left.”

Riccardo makes a face but resigns himself in Memo’s embrace. The door opens and the wave of chatter and laughter hits them like a shock wave.

 

* * *

 

Riccardo hopes to avoid his work partners at least until the obligatory toast when he’ll have to join them at the table, but he has no such luck. He bumps into Gigi who is obviously not waiting for the toast to be his first drink of the night.

“Ricky!” he exclaims, and if Riccardo managed to be invisible until now, it’s definitely over. “You really showed up, and not alone!”

“Oh, Gigi,” Riccardo says, the fake enthusiasm practically dripping from his voice. “This is my boyfriend, Memo. Memo, Gigi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Memo says. 

“My pleasure,” Gigi grins. “So this is what you were actually doing on that business trip in Mexico, eh, Ricky?”

“Well, I put together the duties and the pleasure,” Riccardo smiles. “Besides that, you don’t want me to start on how you spend your business trips to New York.”

“I see. But you’ve managed to keep it secret from us, for quite a long time. Do you even know that there’ve been rumors... I’m not saying that I believed them, but... rumors that you weren’t actually into...”

“Into what?” Riccardo asks sharply.

“Guys.”

Memo laughs loudly and draws Gigi’s attention to him. “Is he really such a grouch at work?” he asks. “Because if you saw him at home, such thought wouldn’t even cross your mind.”

“Well, you should see him at work. You have to have the patience of a saint!” Gigi states.

“Why do you think so?” Memo asks, and Riccardo almost rolls his eyes at the way Memo exaggerates his accent. _Nobody ever_ speaks with a Spanish accent like that.

“Well, if you’ve been with Riccardo for... how long?”

“Six months already, is it, sweetheart?” Memo asks with a toothpaste-advertisement-worth smile.

“Almost seven, actually, darling,” Riccardo replies with the same expression.

“Ah, and I would always think Ricky would be the one to forget about the anniversary,” Gigi grins.

“I’ve noticed that you are constantly assuming wrong things about me,” Riccardo says. “Shouldn’t we get our places? The president’s speech must be any minute now.”

They head to their table. It’s still mostly empty, but not entirely. Gigi practically runs to his colleague sitting there.  “Claudio, have you met Memo?” he grins somehow mischievously. “Ricky’s  _boyfriend_ ?”

Claudio almost fails to hide his shocked expression behind a polite smile. He shakes Memo’s hand and then turns to Gigi. “You knew about this?” he hisses. “I hope you didn’t.”

At that very moment, the door opens and everyone’s eyes fly to the newly arrived guests, putting Riccardo out of his misery.

Alessandro Matri as much as floats around the hall, pretending that he hasn’t noticed all the looks following him. And holding his arm in a way that only lovers hold each other is a beautiful woman in a yellow gown.

“The indecency,” someone at Riccardo’s table mumbles and Riccardo nods absent-mindedly, unable to tear his gaze from the scene.

Relationships between a man and a woman are not just frowned upon, they are simply unacceptable. Of course, they exist, but it’s all hush-hush and the general opinion is that if it has to be, then keep it behind closed doors. Nobody would ever flaunt it in people’s faces.

Nobody - except Alessandro Matri.

He pushes back the chair for his partner and then sits down next to her, flashing the people at his table his perfectly practiced smile. Riccardo shakes his head. Of course, artists can loosen their ties a little bit more when it comes to morals, but this is pushing the boundaries. And somehow, he can only marvel at it.

 

* * *

 

“So... how many times have you heard someone mention my shares in the company?” Riccardo asks when he and Memo get a minute break from the constant questions.

“Well, I have to admit that your partners are extremely interested in you love life,” Memo laughs and runs a hand up Riccardo’s arm and then up his neck. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Riccardo hisses. 

“Playing my role,” Memo whispers. “For your information, there is this Gigi pretending he’s filling his plate, but in reality he’s watching us.”

Riccardo puts on his practiced smile. “Sneaky nosy bastard,” he says through the gritted teeth. “I bet he was the one who started the rumors, that’s why he’s now refusing to give up on them.”

“He will have to, eventually,” Memo says and inches closer. “I hope you didn’t think they’d believe you just because you walked in holding my hand?”

“I didn’t,” Riccardo sighs. “Let’s do this.”

“It’s not going to hurt, I promise,” Memo grins and presses his lips to Riccardo’s.

Riccardo can feel Gigi’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and he doesn’t know if he should think of that or focus on the kiss because neither are things he would particularly enjoy.

Memo pulls back and looks at him, and Riccardo has to give it to him, if he were into guys, he would feel like the happiest person on Earth.

“So?” Memo raises his brows.

“I hate to tell you, but you don’t have magical powers to change my orientation with one kiss.”

“And I thought I did,” Memo makes a face. “Too bad. I’ll have to practice more for the next time.”

“I’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time, but with my nosy co-workers...”

“Couldn’t you stage a break-up?” Memo shrugs, face all business again, which makes it all a lot easier for Riccardo.

“And then pretend I’m getting over it and looking for a new boyfriend? Thanks, I’d rather keep you,” Riccardo sighs.

“I should be flattered,” Memo chuckles and then looks at Riccardo. “These people are easy to fool, but not all people are.”

Riccardo stares back defyingly. “And?”

“Just be careful,” Memo shrugs. “Shall we dance now?”

“No,” Riccardo deadpans. “Even this stupid game has limits.” 

 

* * *

 

The taxi stops in front of Riccardo’s house. He looks up, his eyes searching the windows of his apartment. One of them is lit.

“I’ll keep you updated on my life,” Memo says. “So that you know what to tell your co-workers. I know you’re a terrible liar, you wouldn’t be able to make it up.”

“I guess,” Riccardo sighs. “Thank you. For everything.”

Memo nods and makes a joking attempt to peck Riccardo on the lips, after which Riccardo more falls out of the car than he gets out.

He can still hear Memo’s laughter when he unlocks the door.

 

* * *

 

The apartment feels like a quiet, safe haven. Nobody watching him and asking questions. He wants nothing but to throw the suit in the deepest bottom of the wardrobe and sleep for days.

“How did it go?” 

Riccardo sighs and unties the scarf around his neck before looking at Cristina, who is leaning against the doorframe, dressed in comfortable pajamas, holding a mug of hot tea. “Better than I expected, actually.”

“They didn’t ask too much?” she asks, playing with the mug.

“They had someone else to stare at, luckily,” Riccardo makes a face and kisses her on the cheek.

“Was he there?” Cristina asks with certain curiosity because she immediately connects the dots.

“Matri? Of course he was.”

“With her?”

Riccardo nods and takes off his jacket before walking to the staircase connecting the apartment with the one in the upper floor. It’s the cleverest thing he’s thought of in his life. Both apartments have their own entrance, so for the outside world, Cristina is just the neighbor from the next floor.

Cristina laughs humorlessly. “How does he always get away with it?”

“He claims she’s his cousin, so…” Riccardo shrugs. “It’s not illegal to take your relative with you to an event, and unless they catch them _in flagranti,_ they are relatively safe.”

“Which we aren’t,” Cristina concludes and lays a hand on her belly. “How long can we keep this a secret?” 

Riccardo is too tired to think of that. He doesn’t want to keep it a secret at all, but sometimes he gets the feeling that his whole life is one big secret, a web he’s created around himself that was meant to protect him, but now he finds himself getting more and more tangled in it.

“I think we’re safe as long as Gigi and his companions think I’m with Memo,” he says to avoid deeper discussions, at least until the morning. “Which I hope they think now.”

Cristina looks him in the eyes. “Can you trust him?” she asks.

Riccardo sighs. He doubts that he can trust anyone in this world where he doesn’t even trust himself at times. But he needs to trust someone to survive in it.

“Yes,” he says. “I trust him.”

He curls up on the sofa, breathing in the faint smell of shampoo from Cristina’s hair, and wishes he would wake up in a different world, in a world where he could be himself for more than a couple hours.

 


End file.
